I Keep Seeing Everyone Poking Fun At The Stark Difference In Victor’s Impressions Of M. Krempe And

dont know if i’ve said this all here yet but i see very often people pointing out victor’s supposedly idealistic childhood in comparison to the creature’s early suffering, and it always comes off as some sort of “gotcha!” moment when i think really there’s room there to be looking at the WHY that is. why, despite supposedly having this ideal childhood, with good, caring parental figures in his life, he fails to give this same upbringing to his own child? the issue is that of those who bring this up, their perspective tends to be already inherently limited: that is, victor is a bad parent simply because he is a privileged asshole. by beginning his narrative by describing his family and childhood as perfect and ideal, victor sets an expectation for parents that is obviously impossible, yet people continue to hold him accountable to it.

and, really, what childhood is really as perfectly happy as victor’s description? his almost-desperate insistence that his childhood WAS perfectly happy is just that — desperate — and it makes it suspicious. this insistence suggests the opposite, and i believe this assertion is taken at face-value far too often; particularly when his childhood, even in-text, was objectively imperfect and troubled, and victor himself directly addresses in his narration to walton that his past recollections of his family and early childhood are idealized, even going so far as to describe them as "religious" and "sacred" in feeling: i think [among other things] that this suggests, like many victims of childhood trauma and abuse, now that there is physical distance between the memories as well as time having passed since then, he has sentimentalized this era of his life

if you step back take a moment and look at the maternal figures in his life as well (caroline, elizabeth, and to a lesser extent justine) an obvious pattern emerges - each one of them was orphaned, and then “saved” by becoming a member of the frankenstein family, where they are afforded an environment where they are able to become these motherly, nurturing caretakers. this pattern is broken with victor: when he is orphaned, instead of joining the family, he EXITS it — that is, he is sent off to ingolstadt, and completely stripped of this support system, leading to his “failure” as a mother.

in a similar vein, the same people who harp on and on about how victor is negligent and an unaccountable father fail to hold the creature accountable for his actions as well, and somehow the fault for the entire plot of the book (that is, the murders of the frankensteins and co) rests solely on victors shoulders.

gay people can never be normal they always gotta say some shit like "he was a being formed in the very poetry of nature. his wild and enthusiastic imagination was chastened by the sensibility of his heart. his soul overflowed with ardent affections, and his friendship was of that devoted and wondrous nature that the worldly-minded teach us to look for only in the imagination".

elizabeth lavenza:

stood up in front of a corrupt court that condemned her innocent best friend and called them cowards while also defending that friend's innocence, even knowing and saying that it would be considered 'indecent' (volume 1, chapter 7)

goes on an entire rant about how unjust the death penalty is; one could say this is just the author's own beliefs being reflected in her work, which is true! but also doesn't negate that elizabeth was the character chosen to convey this opinion (volume 1, chapter 7)

is described to continuously self sacrifice for the sake of others without complaint, but also shows some resentment for this role she plays when she laments being unable to join victor across europe (volume 1, chapter 2 and volume 3, chapter 1)

is an artist and a writer (volume 1, chapter 1)

is emotional, imaginative, lively, and active (volume 1, chapter 1)

her passive aggressive tone in her letter to victor about justine and how he probably doesnt remember her, the girl who lived with them for five whole years (volume 1, chapter 5)

after justine's wrongful conviction and execution she becomes much more pessimistic and laments about the unfairness of the world and that "men appear to [her] as monsters thirsting for each others blood" (volume 2, chapter 1)

yet because the 1831 revision of the novel removed or changed so much of this people -- movie writers, musical writers, fans, etc! -- act like she is and always has been a nothing character, instead of thinking critically about why mary shelley would revise her novel with her very radical for the time she lived in opinions during a time of financial stress.

can u make a new alt account where u pretend to be someone else so i dont get jumpscared by u in my notifs. i dont want to see that gay ass cat. i dont want to be franked. get away from me. /s

you will be franked whether you like it or not. against your will

In switzerland straight up frankin’ it and by “it” lets jusst say… my stein

I was rereading Volume III of Frankenstein and I have some things to say about my favorite boy, Henry Clerval.

At the start of the book, the first thing we know about Clerval is that he is a poet whose dream is being frustrated because his father wants him to be an extent of his businesses and fails to understand why Henry would want an education when those things are “superfluous in the commerce of ordinary life”.

Being a merchant is not what disturbs Henry, but the idea of not having another choice; forcing him to be an ignorant who only lives in conformism with no purpose of his own is tortuous enough to make him loathe that path of existence, leading to a desperation and need to escape those restraints and feel that he has a potential that goes beyond the restrictions that have so plagued his daily life.

That's why I think the way in which Henry describes the places that he and Victor visited across Europe is more than just a pretty description of the landscape. The burst of inspiration that he experiments becomes much more personal considering how Victor says that he is feeling "a happiness rarely tasted by man" and Clerval himself lasts a whole page talking in heavy detail about the wonders he can appreciate.

The passion that Henry feels in the journey is so extreme and magical that he is convinced that he found a paradise where all the worlds he created in his head are finally taking form, allowing him to have a perspective that's so much more than Geneva's frozen mountains, even wanting to live forever in England because there he found the fulfillment that he so long sought for.

The delight of Clerval was proportionally greater than mine; his mind expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found in his own nature greater capacities and resources than he could have imagined himself to have possessed while he associated with his inferiors. “I could pass my life here,” said he to me; “and among these mountains I should scarcely regret Switzerland and the Rhine.”

Henry is deeply unsatisfied with the life that has been dictated to him, being in constant search of some place where the sensibility of his heart can flourish and can prove that the person he wishes to be isn't conditioned by the impediments that were told to him during his childhood.

Those aspirations and emotions are the ones that create both his contrast and similarity with Victor; the two of them are equally ambitious and therefore are the ones that know best how to understand each other when everything is going downwards. Henry takes care of Victor when the repent of his actions is too much to allow him to get out of bed and provides him with at least a meager pinch of hope that things will get better, and Victor, even though it's through a eulogy, makes sure to preserve Clerval's memory telling to anyone who would listen about the incomparable potential and kindness that still comforts his poor soul beyond the grave.

Henry's death is cruel in all the ways it can be. It not only takes away the last solace that Victor had, leading him to an extreme of despair that leaves him with no reason for existing. But also makes sound all of Henry's plans for the future like the prayers of a moribund; he stops being a person to become only a tragedy sentenced to be forgotten in the distant shores of Ireland, where he is only a stranger that no one can give a cry to.

Maybe I'm looking too much into it, but this book scares you not for the fact that there's a living corpse, but for the fact that there is no place for hope, and you slowly realize how doomed the situation is while you are forced to see how the misfortune develops, so I wouldn't be surprised if all the possibilities of Henry living a fulfilling life were only shown to be taken away by a whim of fate.

it's so funny that Frankenstein's Adam is a committed and full vegetarian. like, yes, here is one of the most famous Halloween monsters. What does he eat? Blood? Brains? Flesh? Children? No. Nuts and berries.

im going to reread frankenstein soon and then we'll be so back

as i was reading the 1818 annotated text of mary shelley’s frankenstein, i noticed that one of my favorite lines, “Clerval was a being formed in the very poetry of nature”, had an annotation by Shelley connecting it to The Story Of Rimini by Leigh Hunt.

i obviously checked it out, and found out that that line was describing PAOLO from dante’s inferno… as in paolo and francesca… THE star-crossed lovers… francesca was in an arranged marriage (familiar?) and sinned by falling in love with paolo… and theyre together in hell and regret nothing…

i’m actually weeping over this being a canon parallel. go stream francesca by hozier one billion times

proposition: boy valentine